Complications
by Your Faithful Servant
Summary: Commander Natasha Shepard is a biotic with the L2 implant. Not that it's common knowledge. This affects her life more than she'll ever admit. (In which Mindor happened earlier in the timeline, when Shepard was 10, not 16, Kaidan pretends the little Nat he knew on Jump Zero was a completely different person, and Shepard doesn't want any pity. For anything.) T for language & violence


It's not that she's ashamed.

There's some remnants of pride, knowing she survived when so many died. If she ever said that aloud, most people assumed she was talking about Mindoir. Akuze, maybe, if they assumed she was a particularly shitty person hiding in hero's shell. Moving on, pretending it was just another bloody smudge on her ledger, her name- that was her true deceit.

(She was younger than the rest, discovered by the Alliance when she was on the verge of puberty, eyes swollen and covered in blood. Parents, friends, everyone dead. Alone. The captain's eyes changed, seeing untrained biotics sparking on her shaking fingers.)

She's a strange age for a biotic. Too old to have received an L3 implant. Presumably too young for an L2. Most don't know. Most don't ask. The Alliance fell quiet. It isn't a secret but isn't public knowledge either- after all, there were only supposed to be teenagers on Jump Zero.

(She's ten, traumatized, and stares at her feet instead of faces. The other -older- kids shift around her uncomfortably. She has felt numb and out of place since watching the life drain out of her mother's eyes. The uncertain glances don't help. Suddenly her hands began to shake again and fresh tears stung at her eyes. One of them finally steps forward.

Black hair and brown eyes met her vision, and a small, comforting smile. Behind him, a girl wringing her hands nervously.

"Hey, it's all right, kid," he soothes. "What's your name, huh?"

"Nat." The nickname from her father slips off her tongue. It's the first time she's spoken in two weeks. Comfort from Alliance soldiers felt stale, uninterested. This boy can only be a few years older- yet his attempt bleeds genuinity.

"I'm Kaidan, okay? And this is my friend, Rahna," he continues, sending a look she can't quite read to the others as he gestured towards the other, nervous girl.. "Don't worry. Things are gonna be just fine."

There are no last names on Jump Zero. Only them and who they are.)

It's a bit of a shock the first time she sees Kaidan again. The Alliance military was big- and despite the fact she had known they both joined, it hadn't been likely they would meet any time soon. She wasn't prepared.

A shakedown, they told her, but she wasn't buying it. The second she had heard a Council Spectre would be aboard, the notion that she had been told the truth was thrown out the window. But what other option did she have to report and pretend everything was normal?

At least Captain Anderson was at the helm… If this mission went to hell, he was a good soldier and a better person. When she met his eyes at the docking bay, she even spared a smile, and began approaching. It was then she noticed he had company. It was a man, black hair, and that was all she could gather as he was facing the Captain, and away from her. She expected for him to turn her away, but Anderson simply smiled back and waved her over.

When the man turned to face her, she froze.

"Commander, this is Lt. Kaidan Alenko. Alenko, this is Commander Shepard. She will be joining us for this mission." Kaidan nods to Anderson, and then held out his hand. Shepard would have assumed he didn't recognize her, if not for the spark of recognition in his eyes.

"It's an honor, ma'am," he tells her, holding out his hand. She isn't unknown in the military. Not after the hellhole that was Akuze. She knew many marines regarded her as a hero, even when in her mind, she'd only survived another bloodbath. It wasn't completely out of the question for someone such as Kaidan to admire her- after all, it wasn't often a biotic was so revered by military and public alike. He was acting exactly as Anderson expected.

"Pleasure." Her voice is cool and formal as she accepted his handshake, instead of giving him a hug like she wanted.

It's for the best.

("How old are you?" The question comes five days after her arrival. Secretly, she's surprised it took this long. The whispering had started the moment the guards had brought her in, and hadn't stopped. If it wasn't for Kaidan and Rahna, things would be a lot harder.

"'M ten," she murmurs back, staring down at her lap. "Gonna… Gonna be eleven in April."

"Oh." Kaidan's jaw clenches, and he and Rahna look at each other. "Ten."

Pause.

"I'm thirteen," he says, like that explains everything. After a long moment and a confused glance from the younger, Rahna picked up where he left off.

"You're…" She bit her lip. "We're all around thirteen. Some are almost thirteen and some fourteen, but not… ten. You're really young for this, Nat."

Kaidan shook his head. " Why did they bring you here? Jesus…"

"I…" She bites the inside of her cheek like she does when Vyrnnus is around. The physical pain was the only barrier between her and her memories. "I was… I was alone.")

It's funny. It doesn't feel different.

"Spectre." She paused. "Ha. _I'm_ the first human Spectre."

She had taken the news cooly, confidently, yet humbly. _I'm honored_ , she had said to the council. How many people had she shook hands with today, thanking them for their kind words and congratulations, promising she'd do her best to represent the human race? Even in front of her own team, she had taken it all in stride, focusing not on what was considered her own accomplishment, but what she was going to do with it- defeat Saren.

But in the comfort of her own room, the insecurities rose.

Would the council even uphold her status after all of this was over? Or was she just their disposable chess piece, good for one purpose, then discarded? If there was one lesson Jump Zero had taught her, it was how easily one could be thrown away, and it wasn't like the Council thought much of humanity -or her- to begin with.

Her fingers slipped until her shirt, brushing the splattered acid scar on her side. The touch, the _reminder_ , grounded her.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered into her hands. Those little fears, that terror that she wouldn't be enough? _I can't worry about that._ The crew would feel her hesitation, the doubt spreading from a small seed inside to a crooked, overgrown tree, the roots of discontent pushing them onto the path of failure.

"I will do this," she told herself, standing with fists clenched. _One step at a time_. "I will defeat Saren." No room for failure, no room for questioning, or low self esteem. Her team and crew were skilled, her biotics and strength something to fear, and now she had the official power of the Council, with her appointment as a Spectre, behind her. It was enough. It had to be enough. But if it wasn't...

 _After all, I'm lucky, right?_

("You're lucky."

She watched the others screaming in pain. Lexi was bleeding everywhere, screaming even when they were wheeling her away. Adam just stopped breathing in the night, and his body was cold by morning. Lukas started by just having trouble reading, bumping into things, but completely lost his sight after a tough training session. One by one, they were transported to medical. None of them ever came back.

Paralysis, tumors, death- she's twelve, close to thirteen now, and angry. She knows power comes at a price. Her constant work, hours spent trying to lift a single object isn't a response of Vyrnnus' constant abuse. Control is sparse in the world, and the only thing that calmed her these days was carving out a little for herself. It was a 'in the meantime' response, waiting for the inevitable symptoms that were likely to kill her. The thought is almost nice. She isn't suicidal, not really, but there was always the lingering thought that they'd never escape this place otherwise. Not that she had anywhere to go.

It starts as occasional numbness in her fingers and toes, and spreads to her lower arms and legs at times. Then it's pain, pain that makes it difficult to even hold a pencil or stand, much less walk. But she lives, and learns to work through it all even when she wanted to scream. Kaidan teases her a bit for being clumsy on the bad days. He doesn't know that she can't feel her legs.

But the pain and numbness always fade. It's not permanent, but the doctor, with halfhearted sympathy, tells her it's chronic and she'll always have issues. It'll be worse with hot or cold weather, or stress. But she is alive.

"You're quite lucky, Ms. Shepard. It's a minor complication."

'Lucky.'

God, she hates that word.)

Dr. Chakwas and her have an understanding.  
She never needed to tell her- Dr. Chakwas received her confidential medical file, which was the only place one might find the fact she was an L2, and the complications that came with it. Thankfully, the doctor had many experiences with rough, paranoid soldiers- and understood her need for privacy.

Shepard tells her when she's having issues, and Dr. Chakwas quietly treats it without even her closest squad knowing.

On a best case scenario, she didn't want her crew to feel sorry for her. On a worst case she didn't want to be doubted. Despite her service record and capability, and the fact she'd lived with the complications for years… people were never inclined to give a soldier with numb hands a gun. Though medication and massages helped tremendously, it wasn't something that could truly be healed or fixed.

"This doesn't make you weak, Commander," Dr. Chakwas quietly tells her as she massages her hands. "In fact, quite the opposite. I'm sure your crew would agree. Kaidan's migraines-"

Shepard pulls away, despite the fact the massage had begun to help restore the feeling.

"I'm not Kaidan," she says. "I'm… I'm supposed to be a leader. Everyone has absolute faith in me, and I can't falter. I can't be anything less than… than perfect. I have to work to keep this crew safe. I can't do that if they don't trust me. How could they if they knew that sometimes I just have to hope I've pulled the trigger because I can't goddamn feel if I have or not?"

"Commander-"

She's out the door before Dr. Chakwas can continue, a lump in her throat, feet already moving to the stairs. She pauses at the top step. It takes her a moment to realize she clenched her fists so hard her fingernails had broken the skin on her palm. She had drawn blood.

 _Funny,_ she thought humorlessly as she stared at her bloody palms in her cabin. _Didn't feel a thing._

(Vyrnnus is hurting Rahna, and she sees _red-_ but Kaidan gets there first.

She has always been a person of action, but she's fourteen and small and she'd promised Rahna she would stay away from Vyrnnus. _Don't worry about us,_ she'd always said. _We can handle it. We're older._ She had frowned and argued, but Rahna and Kaidan didn't falter.

She really, really wanted to break that promise the moment she saw Rahna's arm break. In fact, there was a biotic throw on her fingertips before Kaidan started yelling. Fists flew -Vyrnnus' fists flew- and her own hands balled up but Rahna was there, pushing her back with the uninjured arm.

"Nat," she says, a reminder. There are pained tears in her eyes, but she still manages to keep her voice level and firm. It is that, only Rahna's resolve, that keeps the younger still, but shaking. Not with fear, not this time, but red hot anger.

 _Crunch._

The sound catches them all off guard, and it isn't until Vyrnnus falls to the ground and doesn't move that they all realize what happened. Kaidan is stunned, disbelieving. Rahna's shock is tainted by fear. Nat feels nothing. Numb, like her hands.

They are rushing the biotics away, already out of earshot, but she can still read the lips of the guard. _He's dead_.

They're all shipped out the next day.)

"Damn it!" She punches the training dummy again, teeth gritting. "Damn it, damn it damn it-"

It's three in the morning and she's tired, so tired. But she's angry. Still angry, and that emotion always wins out in the end. It's a good thing she's awake, maybe. The memories flash, linger in the forefront of her mind no matter what, but it's worse in her dreams.

Ash smiling. Her leaned over her armor, scrubbing out stains. On Eden Prime, standing tall in the face of tragedy as she fearlessly raised her gun for another shot. The small smile as she talks about her family. Sisters, a father watching over from the grave.

 _"It's all right, Commander. I don't regret a thing."_

"No!"

There's something calming about physical, melee violence, even if she can't feel it. It's satisfying, knowing that despite everything her strength is still intact. Even if her biotics failed, even if her weapons broke, even if everything went to hell, numb hands or not her fists would be there.

It wasn't enough today.

Ashley died.

She began another furious assault, losing herself in the punches, not realizing she wasn't holding back anymore until far too late.

 _Crunch._

The sounds of bone snapping are familiar, unsurprising at this point. But it isn't often it's her own.

"Damn it," she murmured, pulling her hands back from the training dummy. At the sight of her hands, however, she completely froze.

 _Shit_.

Dark bruises covered the entirety of her lower fingers and knuckles, and in multiple places, light trails of dark crimson had developed from small cuts. On her right hand, the base of all her finger joints (sans the thumb) were already beginning to swell, and though the breaks weren't that obvious since they were so far down the fingers, she'd heard that crack far too frequently to mistake it for anything else.

 _Dr Chakwas is going to kill me_.

It's her own fault really. She should have checked her hands earlier for damage, and really, three in the morning or not, she should get medical attention. But there's a voice speaking at the back of her mind, laughing. _You know you deserve it_ , the voice said. _You let her die._

"It can wait," she whispered aloud, starting at her injured hands as she sunk into her chair. _Just until I feel the pain. Maybe it'll remind me I'm alive._

It's eight AM on the dot, and the pain had come hours ago, when she finally stands.

 _I may have let her die_ , she decided, _but I can't give up. I'm sorry, Ash. I'm going to make your sacrifice mean something._

She pretends not to notice when Dr. Chakwas' lecture is soft and short.

(She misses Jump Zero.

Well, she doesn't miss training for eight hours straight. Or the physical and verbal abuse. Or the shitty food. Or being isolated from the outside world. That sucked.

But the real world sucks so much worse.

The foster family the Alliance shoved her with doesn't care for her, not that she cares for them either. She's sure they're good people, but she's a biotic with a tragic past. They don't understand and don't try too, and though they aren't hostile, they are far from warm. She has a bed and they feed her, at least, and they're already better than any teacher or guardian on Jump on the account they don't insult or hit her, so there is no reason to complain. Her classmates and teachers are confused and scared. They don't talk to her, and avoid her completely when they can.

She misses companionship. She misses talking to someone, anyone. She misses being treated like a person, a human being with thoughts and emotions, and not a faceless, terrifying biotic. But there isn't any colony, or Earth, that she would find that. Not anymore.

The second she's of age, she signs the enlistment papers and never looks back.)

She recognizes the look of helplessness and pain in Saren's eyes.

It's funny. Not so long ago, hatred filled her veins at the thought of his name. Now, she looks at him with sympathy. Perhaps he had noble intentions in the start, perhaps he wanted to save the world. Maybe he was blinded by his own pride, thinking he could fix everything all by himself. In the end, it didn't really matter what his reasons had been.

Now, he was another pawn in the Reapers' game, a puppet so brainwashed and delusional he couldn't even recognize that his movements were no longer his own. A monster, a demon that couldn't be reasoned with or convinced.

And yet… Her hands tightened around her gun. Despite his faults, Saren had been a Spectre, sworn to protect the galaxy. He had to have done something to earn that.

How many times had she talked instead of fired, to people she had been told were unmovable, and walked out without another death on her record? A lot of those people had far more questionable morals…

Despite the fact she knew the odds were low… she had to try. So she took a deep breath, and opened her mouth. His duty, his morals, anything she could think saying spilled out. _It's not working_ , she thought, hands going white from clenching her gun so tightly, but then something in his posture -his eyes- changes.

"Goodbye, Shepard," Saren said, moving the gun to his forehead, and with horror she realizes what his plan is. But in the end, she knew-

"Thank you."

BANG!

-sometimes death was the only freedom.

("No no no no-" She can't find her gun and she curses her shaking hands, visions of snapping jaws and severed, gruesome bodies flashing behind her eyelids. Her hands had gone numb long ago but they press as hard as she can manage against the wound on her side. Her hands are dyed rusty brown from dried blood, and the sharp pain has faded to a dull throb. She can't tell if it's good or bad, but it didn't matter.

 _I am going to die_. Like her teammates. Like her parents.

"God." Her eyelids fluttered close as a dry, lifeless chuckle drew from her lips. "Survived the raid… and Jump Zero… only to die here. On fucking Akuze."

Everything went dark after that, only a strong arm pulling her up and a voice-

"-hang on. You're not dying yet, Shepard, not if I can help it-"

She's still getting knitted back together in the hospital a week later, when the letter comes.

'-Natasha Shepard, congratulations on your promotion to N7-'

She laughs until she cries. And then she just cries.)

Frantic gasps and her heartbeat thudding, hands frantically grabbing at the punctured oxygen tank, at her aching throat.

Isn't it funny, how, after so many near-death experiences, her body goes so easily into autopilot?

The other times, her feelings were mixed. Determination, fear, guilt, and pain- all mashed together like a mangled marionette. Her bloody hands, holding her gun, eyes wide and side on fire. Mangled sobs as she scurries back, her small hands slipping on the crimson puddles and she falls back, forced again to look at the dead, staring eyes of her father. The moment before the pieces of Sovereign hit the window, panic filling her body as her biotics instinctively threw her team back, safely away from the impending wreckage.

A bitter smile crossed her face, overshadowing the panic and fear.

 _I am going to die._

It was almost humorous, would have been if it wasn't so painful and sad. She'd survived all of this time, survived Mindoir, Akuze, and the whole thing with Saren and the Reapers- and yet she was going to die from a surprise attack from an unknown source in Traverse space.

These last moments were slow, agonizing with fire in her chest and throat, mouth going dry with the force of her shuttering, useless gasps. There's at least one comfort, though. The emptiness, vastness of space scared a lot of people, a lot of humans especially. But Shepard had always loved its beauty, the blackness, like a sea, and the stars glimmering like tiny beacons. Terrifying, but full of opportunities. Full of hope for a better tomorrow, when it seemed the world was ending. Maybe it's the lightheadedness from lack of oxygen, but it feels like she's just staring forever. Space has a different feeling now. Home.

Her crew had felt like home.

They all acted like she was the big hero, the person who had saved them from a terrible fate. The truth was, she'd been lost and broken until their gentle words and loyal actions awakened a part of her she'd thought lost forever. The part that let her smile, laugh, be a person instead of just a broken soldier. They had all meant so much to her, what gave her the final push in the end to fight for what she believed. To go to Ilos, because she knew and she didn't need anyone to tell her she wasn't crazy or misinformed. She'd saved most of them, god she hoped, but there was something tragic about never saying goodbye. Never saying all the words she had wanted to.

 _You were my friends- no, my family,_ she thinks. _And I never told you. For everything…_

A small, sad smile settled on her features as the stars, the light, began to fade.

 _I'm sorry._

(A small finger pointed at the night sky, the stars sparkling like the light in the little girl's eyes.

"I'm going to go there someday!"

"Of course you are, Natasha." A loving hand stroked back long hair. "You're going to do amazing things."

Pause. A sigh.

"I just know it.")

…

…

…

"Commander Shepard has been recovered."

* * *

 **Okay I'm v aware I have two ongoing fanfics that need updating but honestly I have played a lot of Mass** Effect **lately and I had to write something... and I think there may or may not be** a second **chapter, but for now it's just a one shot because I don't know when/if I'll have the time to write it. Thank you for reading!**


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